


Things the Homilies and Hymns Won't Teach You

by EveryDayBella



Category: Magic: The Gathering (Card Game)
Genre: Gratuitous Hamilton References, M/M, Orzhov contracts, Thanos voice "fine I'll do it myself", The Gathering Storm, Tomik POV, guildmaster Tomik, its probably the only truly good thing to come out of that book, lite forshaken retconning, they're very soft in this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2019-12-06
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:10:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21694945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveryDayBella/pseuds/EveryDayBella
Summary: Falling in love slowly, softly, painfully, and all uncompromisingly.
Relationships: Tomik Vrona/Ral Zarek
Comments: 5
Kudos: 28





	Things the Homilies and Hymns Won't Teach You

**Author's Note:**

> This was written on a whim but I ended up really liking it. Tomik is just such a fascinating character. 
> 
> Much love to Jimaine and Thren for their help in everything! You guys are the best. 
> 
> Title is from Wait for It which is an extreme Tomik song okay okay.

The hotel they were meeting at today certainly wasn’t the worst he had ever been to with Ral. In six months he had trusted in the storm mage’s judgment to keep their meetings to places that no one would recognize them in. Sometimes they ended up in low run places with barely a bed that was clean. At the moment the hotel was almost alright. The mattress at least wasn’t so worn that it was falling apart, and the carpet, while not new, wasn’t in bad shape. Someone was caring for the place. 

Said storm mage was stretched across one side of the bed, the sheets loosely bunched around his waist leaving the strong, lean expenses of his chest and arms on full display. Tomik kept getting stuck, eyes dragged back to his warm, lanky frame, and the green shapes of the dragon tattoo running up his arm. Tomik had the sudden urge to bend down and trace all that ink with his tongue, tasting the burst of salt and skin and something uniquely Ral. Something that only tasted like the storm mage. It was intoxicating. He could drift lower too. Kiss and nuzzle warm skin, leaving tiny marks that no one but they would see, suck him down until Ral could do nothing but moan his name and then…

“What are you thinking about?” Ral had one grey green eye open, a smirking grin on his face and he stretched, putting on a show that had Tomik flushing and suddenly aching. 

He pushed his glasses up his nose and tried to focus on the book in his lap instead. There was a half formed brief in his mind that he needed to write. Of course, he could go back to his office and write it much easier there, but that would mean leaving the hotel, and Ral, and he wasn’t completely sure he was ready for that. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Ral continued to grin and rolled over, rough, calloused fingers trailing over Tomik’s thigh, enticing little sparks and thrills of pleasure up the young advokist’s spine. Tomik suppressed a shudder, clenching his hands round the edges of the book, forcing himself not to look at the mage. He would remain strong. He wouldn’t give into Ral’s temptation. They had already been secreted away in this room for the whole night enjoying one another, there was no reason he couldn’t remain firm now for just long enough to write... 

And then he felt Ral’s lips smile against his skin and Tomik was gone. 

* * *

It was later again, and Tomik knew it was pressing on toward the morning and he would have to leave the bed. He had to meet with Teysa, write that brief, he had meetings and studying and still more meetings. There was a whole new day in front of him. 

And yet he found he couldn’t bring himself to leave the rented bed. His work had always been important to him and he took a great deal of pride in it. Changing the Orzhov for the better was a challenge, but it was good work. And he was proud of it. 

And yet, he didn’t want to leave this bed. Ral was asleep, hugging one of the surprisingly fluffy pillows, face unfairly sweet asleep. Tomik rolled over to watch him, wishing that he didn’t want to touch him so badly. There was a lock of dark, white-streaked hair falling over his forehead, soft because it wasn’t a staticy mess like usual. Tomik wanted to push it off his pale skin just to feel how soft the strands were. 

Tomik sighed, rolling over onto his back before he could do something stupid. What was he  _ doing _ here? This was supposed to be a one-time thing. There had been chemistry between Tomik and Ral from the moment they’d met, and maybe Tomik had wanted to see if the rumours about the new Izzet Viceroy were true. (And they were true. Delightfully, deliciously, true.) But one time had led to two. And then to a handful of meetings that had stretched out over weeks. Tomik just couldn’t stop himself. Every time he was intercepted by one of those red robed messengers with a note containing an address and a time he got a little thrill. 

It was wrong, but oh so, so right.

Tomik sighed, rubbed his eyes, tried to sort out his feelings. It could be the sex. It was really good. Tomik had had his share of lovers and partners in the past, but Ral was something else. The way he touched him… the way his hands felt in his skin… the way his body… Tomik cut himself off with a shudder.

It could have been a little bit of rebellion. There was no denying that Ral was inescapably  _ wrong  _ for him. Especially after all the work he’d done to reclaim his birthright, that he’d lost when his parents died as young as he was, as the Vrona Syndic and be more than just another Orzhov servator. After the ways he had scrapped and clawed and worked his ass off to impress people like Teysa, before finally achieving his title of advokist. Risking it all for a little fling with the second-in-command of the Izzet was idiotic, but here he was in bed with him anyway. 

It represented something that was just Tomik’s. It wasn’t for the guild. It wasn’t for Teysa. It wasn’t for his parents. It wasn’t the oligarchy’s, or the hierarchy’s. He didn’t have to be Tomik Vrona, surprisingly distinguished advokist, personal secretary to the Karlov heir, bearer of his parents' legacy. For a few hours, he just got to be Tomik. Ral didn’t care about the titles, or promotions, or family histories. 

And maybe Tomik could have accepted that excuse too, and been able to walk away whenever he was ready. 

Except for Ral. 

Because the hard honest truth was, he was here because of Ral. No one else would have kept him coming back to this bed time and again, no one else would have him taking such wild, extreme risks. No one else would have him question his own well-formed thoughts like the loud, arrogant, brash Ral Zarek. Everything out of his mouth was smug and conceited. He even moved like the storms he loved so much, all sharp grace that threatened danger at the earliest opportunity. 

And yet, Tomik felt something tremble deep inside when Ral smiled at him. Tomik wouldn’t ever pretend to keep up with his scientific mind, but the moments late at night when they would lay side by side and Ral would explain all the things he was working on in his lab felt more precious, and more delicate than the most valuable gem the Orzhov owned. Without a doubt there was something guarded and brutal about Ral, but those rare times when he was able to be the sole focus of Ral’s attention were the best feeling in Tomik’s world. 

And that was the real crux of the matter. Tomik groaned, rubbed his eyes, wanted to fight back and argue, but he couldn’t. He was sort of falling for Ral. He didn’t dare say anything to Ral about it. It didn’t take a genius, or an Izzet madman, to tell there were things in Ral’s past that would probably make that a not great idea. He didn’t want to scare Ral off. Because that was the brutal truth. He was falling for the brilliant, arrogant, second-in-command of the Izzet. It could never go anywhere. It could never be anything more than this—stolen moments in hotel rooms late at night when no one would miss them—but Tomik wanted it all anyway. 

He turned to see Ral again, relaxed in sleep, almost innocent, stunning and sweet and everything Tomik wanted. Something that was all his own. Something that was becoming very important to him, regardless of the consequences. 

And that, that was equal parts terrifying and thrilling. 

* * *

Tomik was trying not to think about any of this when the morning light came spilling into the room and they were struggling to find all the random bits of clothing they had left strewn all about it. Tomik shuddered to think of whatever poor soul would have to clean up after them. He passed Ral one of the bright red sashes he wore that he found draped carelessly, if artfully, over his gilded boots. Tomik sat down in a hard wooden chair to pull on his boots, missing the soft look Ral gave him for a moment.

“So, I had an idea,” Ral offered, making Tomik look up from his buckles. Ral was tying the absurd sashes in place, reaching for the harness his gear went on with the other hand. Ral wouldn’t look at him, and there was a soft tension in his shoulders. Tomik frowned, concerned. That uncertainty was so unusual for him. Carefully, Tomik turned back to his boots so as not to startle him too much. 

“I always like a good idea.”

Ral was quiet for a moment, fiddling with his harness and the switches on his bracers before explaining his idea in a tumbled rush. “I thought I might rent an apartment.”

It took Tomik a moment to parse through his words and then looked up at him. “But you live in Nivix.”

“Yes,” Ral replied shortly. “But I can’t exactly have an Orzhov advokist in the headquarters of the Izzet, and I assume your oligarch friends would feel the same way about having me in the Cathedral Opulent.”

Tomik blinked, stunned speechless with his last boot half buckled. “You mean for us?”

Ral nodded, a hint of something pink coloring his cheeks. “I thought it would be better than hotels all the time.”

It was what he said, but wasn't what he meant. Tomik had gotten good at reading the mad genius. There was something more going on in his mind behind those pretty green eyes. 

Butterflies erupted in his stomach and he bent to finish his boots before Ral could see his surprised smile. When he stood up again, he was calm and in control. “I think that’s a great idea. I will look and see what I can find when I get a chance in the next couple of days.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Ral grumbled, rubbing his neck, discomfort like a thick layer that clung to him. 

“Ral, this sort of thing is literally my job.” Tomik grabbed his coat, approaching the storm mage with a soft smile. “You can pay for it if your pride demands it. But at least let me find the right place and get you a good deal.”

“Thats … fair.”

“Of course it is.” Tomik nodded once and tried not to show how excited he was about this. “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

Ral nodded, some tight emotions on his face. Tomik was about to leave, to walk back to the cathedral and his normal life. But at the last second Ral pulled him close and kissed him sweetly, softly, not leading anywhere. When they pulled apart Tomik’s lips were tingling and there was a bounce in his step all the way back to the cathedral.

* * *

It was the after effects of adrenaline that knocked him out as soon as he got home. There was still a lot of fear, and worry. He had betrayed Teysa and he knew, deep down there would be no recovering from that. Karlovs did not forgive debts and Tomik half wondered if his end was going to come on the edge of an assassin's blade. 

But the sweet oblivion of sleep came regardless. 

Only for him to wake again in the middle of the night to a bumping sound downstairs and a muttered curse. If it was an assassin, it wasn’t a very good one, but still Tomik’s heart was pounding in his chest. He pulled on a robe and grabbed the poker from the fireplace holding it defensively in front of himself. The apartment was only lit by the occasional flashes of lightning as a storm raged outside. It had been doing that a lot lately. Tomik tried not to think about why. 

He was holding his breath as he went down the stairs and rounded the corner into the tiny, shadowed living room. Once his eyes adjusted as much as they would without his glasses he sighed and lowered his makeshift weapon. 

“Ral, what are you doing?” He flipped on a lamp. It wasn’t enough to light the whole room, but it was enough to illuminate his love, whose wet coat was still half hanging off his arm while he muttered curses under his breath directed towards the side table he had walked into. Tomik leaned against the wall and fought off a yawn. 

“Shit,” Ral fully shrugged off his coat. He had been called back to Nivix, but he looked worse than when he had left. His hair was lank, the dark circles under his eyes had grown more pronounced, and he was in desperate need of a shave. Ral looked so exhausted. He was stretching himself beyond thin on this project of his. Tomik had been hurt by Ral’s attitude in his office, but he understood where it was coming from and even then he couldn’t help the ache in his chest at seeing him so threadbare. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“It’s all right.” Tomik shrugged and turned, directing Ral toward the kitchen. “I was probably on the verge of a nightmare about thrulls anyway.” 

Ral chuckled and sank on to one of the dining room chairs, crossing his arms over the table top and pillowing his head there. Tomik turned on the kettle, pulling matching mugs from the cabinet. “I always told you those things where terrifying.”

“Believe it or not I knew it all along. Emergency taken care of?”

Ral shrugged, not lifting his head. “Same thing every time.”

Tomik poured water in each of the mugs before bringing them over to the table and sitting next to Ral. He ran his knuckles over the bristly hairs of his beard, watching Ral’s eyes flutter shut with a sigh. “You should let someone else take care of it for a while. You’re exhausted.”

“Everyone else is an idiot.” Ral muttered without opening his eyes.

“Well, then let those who are lesser gifted pick up the slack.”

“I can’t. I..” Ral let out a frustrated sound. “That’s me, Tomik. I’m that person. It’s all on me. Besides, no one else at Nivix is really sleeping either.”

“I don’t care about everyone else at Nivix, I...” Ral’s eyes blinked open, the stunning intensity making Tomik’s words falter. What had he been about to say? Was he really going to cross another one of those lines that had become so blurred lately? Was he going to give thought and precedence to how steadily and deeply into this whole situation he had allowed himself to fall? 

Ral’s eyes were burning with a kind of intensity, a kind of need, that Tomik had never seen there before. It made him want to push against these barriers they had built for themselves. It wasn’t like he doubted Ral’s feelings. Their conversation in the rain had pretty much confirmed that there was something very real there, even if Ral wasn’t ready to admit it. 

He let his fingers move through the rough fibers of Ral’s hair, scratching at his scalp until his eyes drifted closed. 

“I don’t care about them. I care about you.”

Ral’s green eyes opened again, uncomfortably fond. He was beautiful, even marred by that exhaustion. He smiled, small, sweet, and a little disbelieving. Who was this strange, soft creature who had replaced his … partner? Lover? Something more? Tomik suddenly felt out of words, and he never felt out of words. 

What was Ral doing to him? 

Ral’s eyes drifted closed again, apparently fine with keeping Tomik’s fingers in his hair. “Lets go to bed?” Tomik asked, nuzzling his nose against Ral. 

Ral nodded though he didn’t get up as his eyes fell closed again, and Tomik stayed put while the tea grew cold, and watched Ral sleep on their kitchen table.

* * *

Tomik was late leaving in the morning. After he had finally moved Ral to their bed, he had slept with the rain keeping time on the roof. He hurried through his morning while Ral remained stretched across the sheets, utterly dead to the world. 

He didn’t have time, he needed to check in with Kaya, help reign in the chaos that was probably spreading across the Orzhov, and try to get into some sort of fit shape for the coming invasion, but he couldn’t help stopping for a moment and appreciating the rarity of a still Ral. None of the head-strong reckless energy. None of the arrogance and smirking and scientific know-how. Just wild hair falling every which way across his face and the steady rise and fall of his chest. Watching Ral sleeping, seeing him so at peace... This was the best part of, well, living together. Sharing a life. 

It was never something Tomik had expected to have, and certainly not with the Izzet Viceroy. Even now, sometimes it was a terrifying thought. But the way Tomik felt right then, watching over him, he wouldn’t trade that for anything. 

He brushed a kiss over Ral’s forehead, fighting a soft and vulnerable feeling. He made to push up from the bed, but fingers wrapped around his wrist, holding him in the place that Tomik hoped to never leave again. 

“Good morning,” Tomik greeted softly with a smile. Ral’s eyes were clearer than they had been last night and he stretched with a groan, never letting his wrist go. “I do need to go to work, you know...”

“Don’t want to let you go,” Ral admitted, voice soft and rumbly with sleep. Tomik sighed indulgently, brushing hair off his forehead. “I’m afraid I won’t see you again.”

“I go to work every day, Ral,” Tomik chuckled, tracing the lines of stress around his face.

Ral shook his head and there was something serious in his face, something that frightened Tomik a little. Ral’s fingers around his wrist felt heavy, solid, and desperate. Tomik didn’t hate it, it was just different than anything they had allowed before. 

“That’s not what I meant.” Ral shook his head and sat up, clearly fighting against the exhaustion that was still clinging to him. Tomik smiled softly and let himself get pulled down onto the bed next to him, let himself forget the Orzhov, Teysa, and Kaya for a moment, let his world narrow down to this bed and the man before him. “We’re running out of time.”

“How do you know?”

“I can feel it. Like something breathing down my neck.” Ral shook his head, frustration evident in his frame. Tomik curled his fingers around Ral’s face, forcing his thoughts here and now and not halfway across the Multiverse. “And I can’t, I don’t want something to happen to you when Bolas comes.”

“I’ll either be with you or at Orzhova surrounded by knights and priests and thrulls to keep me safe.” Ral didn’t look convinced and Tomik sighed. “I can’t pretend to fully understand the enormity of what’s coming, but I understand it's nothing like what I have experienced before, and that we all have a job to do.”

“I know.” Ral agreed, but his eyes were trained downward, locked on Tomik’s wrist with too much thought in his intelligent eyes. “I know. I just, I don’t want you to be alone and get hurt.”

Something warm and overwhelming blossomed in Tomik’s chest. He leaned forward, forehead against Ral’s and let his eyes fall closed. “I’ll do my best to keep myself safe,” Tomik promised. “And I won’t be alone. I’ll know you're out there somewhere doing what you need to do to keep our home safe.”

Ral chuckled and shook his head. “How are you the way you are?”

“Practice.” Tomik smiled and kissed him briefly. “Now I really do have to go.”

“Wait one minute.”

“Ral,” Tomik groaned, exasperated but Ral was suddenly all movement. He grabbed at one of the ridiculous sashes around his waist and tore a long piece off of it. Taking Tomik’s wrist again he wrapped the length around it, tying it in a smart knot. The brilliant red stood out against Tomik’s cream robes. The ends dangled down, excessively long. Tomik fingered the frayed edges, something stuck in his throat. 

The red was Ral, bright, obnoxious, arrogantly loud, all settled against his own skin. Claimed. Tomik sucked in a harsh breath, willing himself not to cry. 

He pulled Ral into a quick kiss before climbing from the bed to dig through a drawer of clothing. He came back with a white ribbon, a sashing piece for one of his more formal robes. He wrapped it round Ral’s wrist, tucking the edges inside the wrap. He reached over for a needle on his bedside table, jabbing the point into his thumb until there was a small welt of blood. He pressed it to where the fabric ended and muttered a quick incantaction, binding the ends together so they wouldn’t unravel. Like the red on his own wrist, the white stood out on Ral’s. Something that clearly didn’t belong to the Izzet Viceroy. 

Ral trailed his fingers over the fabric with wide eyes and Tomik flushed. “I probably should have asked before I used that binding. I’m sorry, I wasn’t …”

Ral curled his hands round the back of Tomik’s neck to pull him forward into a hot, demanding kiss. Tomik pushed him back into the bed, straddling the mage’s thighs and rocking down until they were both moaning and the outside world simply didn’t exist. 

Regardless, Tomik was very late that morning. And he didn’t regret it at all. 

* * *

Tomik had stumbled home from work nearly dead from exhaustion many times. His mother used to complain that he worked harder than any Oligarch heir should. He would just calmly explain that it was all he knew how to do. He’d rather over work himself than coast by on his family name. 

Stumbling home exhausted and in pain though, that was a new one. He braced himself on the wall of the apartment building his own breathing sounding harsh in his ears. He had managed to make it up the stairs—a more arduous task than he had expected—and he could see their door just down the hall. It was that close. He just couldn’t make himself move again. 

It had started, like it always did as pressure between his shoulders, like a weight that he couldn’t budge. It would spread into an ache in his limbs, a strange fogginess in his mind, pounding in his temples. The worst part was this late stage, where his chest was so tight he couldn’t take a full breath. His lungs were burning, he was gasping like he had run across the district, and everything hurt. 

It was ridiculous because, somehow he was now the Orzhov Guildmaster, a position of immense power and respect, and here he was crumpled into a pathetic ball in some unremarkable apartment building in a little, quiet neighborhood of the Tenth, completely alone. If he had been able to do anything but gasp for air he would have chuckled. 

Whatever he’d always thought his life might end up like, it hadn’t been this. 

Tomik took as deep a breath as he could manage and willed himself to move again. It wasn’t as smooth as he had hoped for since he was still stooped over as even this small motion made all his little aches and pains coalesce into one intense pain. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to take the next step. No thinking, no planning, no feeling. Just moving. 

When he reached the door he fumbled with finding the right key in his pocket, his fingers shaking as he shoved it into the lock. He had to brace himself against the door after that, forehead against the wood grain, just breathing. 

After a moment he stumbled into the quiet apartment, dumping his keys into a bowl next to the door that was half full of trashed wires Ral had left there for one reason or another. It was one of the things that he had gotten used to, living with Ral. Early on he had tried to curb it, but he had learned quickly to just let him do what he wanted in that regard. And to be fair, it wasn’t like their apartment was messy; just a little on the cluttered side. After he’d stopped fighting it, he’d realized how much it made the place feel  _ real _ and lived-in in a way he’d never anticipated in the sterile halls of Orzhova. 

Tomik managed a smile at the sight of the living room before stumbling to the couch. He wanted their bed, maybe a hot bath, but it was all he could do to aim himself across the room and hit the couch cushions with a groan. He still felt far from good, but at least now he wasn’t having to hold himself—and the contracts—up. 

That of course was the cause of the exhaustion and pain. The weight, the _ pressure _ of thousands of Orzhov contracts that he had taken upon his shoulders affected him all the time. He could always feel them, but most of the time he could push it to the side. It was only at times like these, when he was already tired and he had been at the Cathedral all day making so little progress that he might as well have been doing nothing more than beating his head against the gilded walls that it felt this bad. Most of the time he could handle it. 

Except for now when it hurt to move, and it hurt to breathe, like some kind of vindictive punishment. Tomik had looked into the contracts. They were terrible things. Most of Orzhov probably deserved a punishment like this for them. He probably deserved that punishment.

He groaned, willing his muscles to relax into the couch cushions with limited success. One of the priests could probably give him a couple hours relief if he asked, but their methods were little better than the contracts themselves. 

He sighed, attempting to go absolutely still. That was the ultimate problem. Their methods were terrible. He wanted to change them, he wanted them to be better, to be what Ravnica actually needed them to be. But it felt like for every small step he made in the right direction, he had to take two more back. On days like these, the contracts felt even heavier. 

He was tired and hopeless. He knew he would be okay in the morning. He knew he was doing what he was supposed to be doing, but for this one moment he was tired and in pain and wanted something he didn’t have to claw and struggle and suffer for. 

He wanted Ral. 

Tomik blinked slowly. The contracts were not going to let him sleep any time soon, but he tried to push all the thoughts and the pain to the side. He could almost breathe right again and although he was still aching, being still was keeping the real pain at bay.

From his viewpoint on the couch, the most interesting thing could see was the coffee table. There was a white quill he had tossed there a few days earlier, and a piece of mechanical junk Ral had been playing with. It made Tomik feel... well not warm exactly, but something a little better, to see the physical proof of how their lives had become intertwined. There was a spare accumulator in the closet and their coats were hung up side by side at the door. Tomik would playfully snipe at Ral for leaving everything everywhere, and he would tease back with a jab at Tomik’s excessive care for his books. 

Tomik may have been exhausted and in pain on  _ their _ couch, but it was  _ their _ couch and  _ their _ home and upstairs was  _ their _ bed. 

How had they gotten to this point? They’d gone from meeting in random hotels, carefully ignoring their “guild business” all the way to living together, openly, their lives all tangled up. Tomik smiled and felt his locked up muscles relax a little bit more. Yes, it was true that with them both being Guildmasters now, and the whole Tezzeret thing hanging over their heads, it was almost harder on them now. But the time they got together, the trust and support Ral had decided to place in him? That was worth every hurt, every ache, every ounce of pain that he had to go through. 

The door opened with a soft whine of its hinges. Ral was always complaining about them. Tomik didn’t bother shifting a muscle. There was only one person who would come through that door.

“Tomik?” There was a little bit of a buzz in his voice, like he had been drinking ozone and static. The rumble of thunder that came from outside seemed to confirm that theory. The door shut with a soft thud. Tomik counted the sound of the footfalls until Ral was kneeling in front of him, calloused fingers brushing hair off his forehead. Tomik smiled at him before closing his eyes like a contented cat. “Rough day?”

“Something like that,” Tomik muttered. He didn’t have to be looking at Ral to know the understanding that was rushing through him. A heavy palm was placed between his shoulder blades, and from it came the gentlest of electrical currents. Just enough to ease the tension in his shoulders. He groaned, the relief the one thing he had been looking for for hours.

“You didn’t tell me they were getting this bad.” To the casual observer Ral sounded disappointed. Tomik, though, heard the fear and worry underneath it. His partner didn’t like the contracts, didn’t like that Tomik was the one carrying that burden. Not that he thought that Tomik couldn’t do it. They had talked circles around that issue. Ral just didn’t like that Tomik had to. 

“I honestly didn’t realize it was getting this bad, I swear.” Tomik forced his eyes open, finding Ral and the sweetness of his smile. He let out a breath about the same time as the rain started outside. “It was a really rough day. Every time I think I’m making a little progress, I find some new wall to beat my head against. Ral, what am I doing? I'm getting absolutely nowhere.”

Ral settled more comfortably against the couch bringing his other hand up to gently comb through his hair. Tomik happily sighed again. He could feel the contracts struggling, they didn’t like when Ral touched him, but they were weak next to this, unable to stand up to calloused, scarred skin and the sparks that ignited when they met. 

“The district I came from,” Ral started slowly, picking his words carefully, like he always did when talking about his past. “It was run by what we called oligarchs. They’re not really. They’re some distant shadow of them, but they’re enough. They owned the slums we lived in, the factory my mother died in, and the tavern my father got drunk in every night. They owned our entire lives. When Bolas came knocking, he was my only option.”

“The system, first of all, protects itself.” 

Ral nodded. “When I got to the Tenth much, much later, I realized those petty little oligarchs were nothing compared to the real thing. That was what I thought, until I met you. And you were kind, and considerate, and never held your wealth over anyone else. You worked hard for what you had and the things you believed in. I thought it was too good to be true at first.”

“Funny. I thought the same thing about you.”

Ral rolled his eyes. “We are talking about you, not me.”

“Pretty sure we're talking about you.”

“All right, enough, Mr. Advokist.”

“That’s Guildmaster to you.”

“Tomik,” Ral groaned, exasperated, but grinning all the same. “If there is anyone who can do this, it's you. I don't like that it comes strapped to the contracts, but you can change the Orzhov, even when you feel like you can’t. And if you can’t, then fuck them. You’re better than them anyway.”

“Oh yes, that’s what I’ll say at the next council meeting. My boyfriend, the Izzet Guildmaster, says, fuck you.”

“Well, no one will be surprised,” Ral chuckled, leveraging himself up to his feet. He offered his palms down to Tomik. “Come on. You’ll be more comfortable in bed. Then I’ll go get us some dinner, since it was your turn tonight.”

“Damn.” Tomik groaned, but let Ral help him to his feet. The contracts gave a weak twinge, but with Ral’s arm around his waist they didn’t give much resistance. “I’m sorry.”

“And that, right there, is why you’re going to do this.” Ral smiled, and ducked in to kiss him, and it was as if the contracts were never there to begin with.

* * *

There was nothing quite like flying with his gargoyle. There was something freeing about being above the spires and towers until everything looked small and distant. Even Orhzova didn’t seem as important or stressful from up here. 

His bodyguards hated when he did this. He wouldn’t let them come with him, and they felt being in the sky was too dangerous. Tomik had put his foot down. He may be the Guildmaster now, but there were certain things he was not willing to give up. Being up in the sky with the wind in his hair was one of those things, Ral was another. 

Up here it was easy to forget that everything down below wasn’t okay. Far from it, in fact. It hadn’t been that long ago that Ral had planeswalked back in terrible shape. Tomik had been shaken, sick to his stomach about the deep purple bruises that covered him, and that strange, dead light in his eyes. Ral had looked better defying Tezzeret’s plans for him, even knowing what it might cost him, and Tomik had been so so proud of him, but afterwards Ral had needed to immediately rush off to deal with trouble at Nivix. 

So instead of reveling in the freedom of the open air, today Tomik was tied up in knots. He needed to know what was going on. He had spies in the Izzet. He could have tapped them, and maybe a good Guildmaster would have, but to Tomik it felt like an invasion of privacy. The Izzet were Ral’s, and Tomik didn’t want to make it seem like he didn’t trust him. 

With a sigh, Tomik directed the beast below him in to a soft dive. It still landed with a heavy blow to the roof, a few tiles knocked loose under its massive feet. Tomik cringed as he climbed off. They were going to have to get that fixed soon. Tomik scratched under its chin, the gargoyle rumbling in its chest. Tomik laughed lightly. 

The view from their building wasn’t as grand as from the back of the mighty stone beast, but wasn’t terrible either. The twisting, spiraling spires dwarfed everything here. Tomik felt small, like just another cog in the machine that kept Ravnica spinning. He didn’t hate the feeling, but he missed a little of the anonymity that just being Tomik Vrona had afforded him. 

The constant pressure between his shoulder blades spiked uncomfortably. He leaned against the cold stone of his gargoyle with a sigh, willing that reminder away. 

Behind him, there was a crackle. He turned on his heel just fast enough to see the shower of sparks coalesce into a tall, lanky body. The missing shock of spiked hair threw Tomik off balance for a moment, but it didn’t matter. That was his Ral, gorgeous and powerful, if a little worn around the edges right now. He couldn’t help smiling. “Show off.”

Ral shrugged, raised one hand like to run it through his hair, but lowered it with a sour face. “Planeswalking exhaustion sounded better than walking across the district.”

“How did it go?” Ral approached softly, hands now buried in his pockets. Tomik wasn’t sure what he was feeling. If Ral had lost the guild, he would have expected a thunderstorm or two. But Ral still seemed preoccupied. Maybe nothing had happened? 

“Maree called for a vote of no confidence. It was unanimous.” Ral placed his hand on the stone flank, leaning over Tomik, his green eyes distant, and contemplative. 

“Oh, Ral,” Tomik sighed. What would Ral possibly do without the Izzet? Where would he go?  Ral placed so much of his identity in being Izzet, in being Ravnican, that to be rejected by the people he'd devoted everything to...Tomik's hands clenched at his sides, and he abruptly found himself acutely aware of the full powers of his new position. He could crush Maree. One assassin in the right place. 

“No, Tomik... I won.” The disbelief, the shock was all clear on his bruised face. He was surprised, and elated. “I mean, the guild was already mine, but just because Niv Mizzet handed it to me. But they voted for me. Even though I’m a planeswalker. Even though all of this. I won.”

Tomik smiled, and squeezed Ral’s arm. “Seems the Izzet saw at least a little of what I always see in you. Maybe they really do deserve their reputation for being smart after all. I’m so proud of you.” 

Ral grinned, not quite his usual exuberance, but there all the same. He pulled Tomik forward, sealing their lips together, arms tight around Tomik’s waist. Tomik actually felt his feet leave the ground, and anchored himself around his lover’s neck. After everything, after Ral planeswalking home bruised and bloody. After Ral having to lift Tomik, and the contracts, onto their bed. After honestly being terrified that he might lose Ral forever, this was what he needed. What they both needed. 

When they finally, unwillingly, needed to breathe, Ral leaned his head against Tomik, eyes closed, breathing in and relaxing against him. 

“I still have to deal with Tezzeret.”

Tomik shrugged. “It can wait.”

“It really can’t. I don’t know what he’s planning, but whatever it is it's not good. I can’t just let it go.”

“Okay.” It didn’t take a genius to see the determination swimming in Ral’s eyes. It didn’t stop Tomik’s heart from getting stuck in his throat. He couldn’t go through that again. He had come this close to losing Ral once. He wouldn’t do that again. “We should plan.”

“We? No, no, no, this is me. You can’t planeswalk, and you aren’t a fighter. I’ll take care of this.”

“Ral Zerak,” Tomik grabbed a handful of his coat, yanking hard to bring him close. “You almost died. In our bed, with me unable to do anything. If you hadn’t made it back when you did, you would have…”

Tomik choked off, gritting his teeth. He wasn’t going to cry. He wasn’t going to allow this nonsense either. “I’m not saying that you shouldn’t do this. I understand you think this is your responsibility and that I can’t follow you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t help.”

“That would also make you a target and Tomik I can’t.” The words tumbled from Ral’s mouth in a rush, and Tomik had to work to separate them. His hands had turned tight, not that Tomik minded. “I can’t lose you.”

“Then you know where I’m coming from.” Tomik managed to keep his voice steady and fierce. “I would burn the Orzhov to the ground and then do the same to the Izzet before I let anything in this Mutliverse hurt you again. You’re it for me and I can’t, I can’t...”

Before he could finish his thoughts Ral yanked him forward into a possessive and demanding kiss. Tomik gave as good as he got. He wasn’t the only one in this. Not this time. Not anymore. More important than their guilds, more important than Ravnica itself was the two of them. Tomik was done hiding it. If Tezzeret was going to come after Ral then he was going to go after the two of them. 

Ral pulled away, that same determination reflected in his eyes as he nodded. 


End file.
